The Distance Between
by Crazy Fennec Fox
Summary: Lark, daughter of Stormfur and Brook, was born in the mountains and spent her kit-hood there. But she longs for a new life, the one her father lived. Although Riverclan calls to her, can Lark really leave her only family, the only home she has ever known?
1. Allegiances

**Allegiances**

Healer: Teller of Pointed Stones (Stoneteller)-dark gray tom

Prey-hunters: Splash When Fish Leaps (Splash)-light brown tabby she-cat

Stormfur-dark gray tom with amber eyes, formerly of Riverclan

Brook Where Small Fish Swim (Brook)-sleek, brown tabby she-cat

Storm Clouds at Dusk (Storm)-dark gray tom

Flight of Startled Heron (Flight)-dark brown tabby she-cat

Screech of Angry Owl (Screech)-black tom

Cave-guards: Moss That Grows by River (Moss)-light brown she-cat

Sheer Path Beside Waterfall (Sheer)-dark brown tabby tom

Rock Beneath Still Water (Rock)-scrawny brown tom

Pebble That Rolls Down Mountain (Pebble)-pale gray she-cat with blue eyes

Bark That Clings To Tree (Bark)-dark brown tom

Kit-mothers:

Night of No Stars (Night)-pure black she-cat (Mate: Sheer)

To-bes: Flow Of Swift River (Flow)-black and white tom

Feather of Soaring Eagle (Feather)-dark ginger tabby she-cat

Snow Falling on Mountain (Snow)-gray and white she-cat

Pine That Clings to Rock (Pine)-light brown tom

Lark That Sings at Dawn (Lark)-light brown tabby she-cat

Elders: Gray Sky Before Dawn (Gray)-pale gray tabby tom

Talon of Swooping Eagle (Talon)-huge dark brown tabby tom

Bird That Rides the Wind (Bird)-gray brown tabby she-cat


	2. To-be

**Chapter 1: To-Be**

"Cave-guards must be strong. Stronger and more alert than prey-hunters. A cave-guard's job is to defend the cave and protect the prey-hunters while they are hunting..." Lark tuned out Moss's lecturing. She sighed. How many times had she heard this speech? Two days ago Scree gave her the lecture and now Moss was giving it for the second time. She couldn't wait to practice some fighting moves. Not three days ago she had been made a to-be, and Moss hadn't taken her outside once!

"Lark! Are you coming?" Moss had finished warning her of the dangers hawks, eagles, and ice posed, and was waiting at the edge of the cave. Lark nodded and hurried over to where Moss stood impatiently. Snow falling from a ledge above them dusted her pelt with the cold white flakes, so Lark twisted around to lick it, not liking the feel.

"No, leave it," Moss stopped her. "You will get wet and cold." Lark obeyed and shook it out instead. "Not on me! Next time, shake your fur out away from other cats. No one wants your unwanted snow."

"What about my paws?" Lark stepped out of the snow and onto the bare ground, where it's rough texture rubbed her cold pads.

"Deal with it," Moss snapped. _Fantastic, a choice of cold paws or sore paws__,_ she grumbled to herself before following Moss out on the barren landscape of the mountain where the Tribe of Rushing Water made it's home. Lark, lifted her nose to the air. Air as barren as the mountain side entered her nose. It froze the inside and made her sneeze, making Moss look at her in amused confusion. Lark was just as confused. A normal tribe cat's nose didn't get cold easily and a little breeze shouldn't have made her own so cold.

"Let us stop here. I prefer to practice out in open, where it would be more realistic for a fight to happen. As a to-be, you are smaller and need to move fast and be accurate with your paws. You can see how many places a cat can twist a paw. Before a fight, observe your surroundings. The alternation of snow and rock will confuse you. One heart-beat you might be sliding, the next you might have hit dirt"

Unlike when they were in the cave, Lark listened in unwavering attention. Although her claws itched to move, she soaked up every tip and strategy. Stormfur believed that she would be a great cave-guard, so she was determined to prove him right. Brook, of course, had no less doubt then her mate, but she was Lark's mother, and a mother's opinion wasn't always the most honest, no matter the intent.

Finally Moss announced they would practice a couple defensive moves. Lark was surprisingly calm as she padded onto the area they picked to train. It was flat and was relatively smooth. She examined Moss, who was crouching and bunching her muscles as if to spring, so Lark prepared to jump out of the way. She struggled to find a good claw-hold in the rock and when she did, it scraped her claws uncomfortably.

"Okay, let's see how you do without any training so I know what I'm working with," and with a whisk of her tail Moss sprung at Lark, paws outstretched. If Lark hadn't been prepared to sidestep the attack, she would have been pinned to the ground. As it was, Lark barely escaped. When Moss landed, the tabby she-cat rushed at her, but Moss was quick on her feet and neatly swept Lark's paws out from under her. Ruffled, Lark shook out her fur and looked at the older cave-guard, who was in turn staring back with narrowed eyes.

"Well, what now?" Lark mewed impatiently when Moss continued to be silent.

"Begin by analyzing how you fought. You did well be anticipating my first move and responding to it with a move of your own," Moss nodded approvingly. But Lark was confused.

"I just moved out of the way. It was not really a battle move," Lark said.

Moss shook her head. "Is leaping a move? Try it. You will see that it is harder than it looks."

Lark padded to the place where Moss crouched and sprung from. Already she could tell it looked a lot farther from that position then if she was watching from where Moss stood now. Bunching her muscles, Lark jumped, but ended up only a little more than half way there.

"See? There is a certain way to jump to achieve maximum distance and force. There is also a certain way to dodge a leap aimed at you. Watch me," in a heart-beat, Moss rolled to the side and appeared on her feet, ready to attack. It was smooth, quick, and precise. In that heart-beat, Moss could go from dodging to being ready to fight.

"How do you do that?" Lark asked eagerly. If she learned that, not only could she dodge Pine in their play-fights, but it was good for avoiding birds of prey, too!

"Watch carefully. See how I tuck in my front legs first, push off with my hind legs, and then tuck them in?" Moss demonstrated again. Lark watched carefully, then decided to practice on a patch of dirt and snow. Remembering how the snow felt on her pelt, she pushed it to the side. She imagined Moss leaping toward her and at the last moment, tucked in her paws and rolled. Instead of moving in a single smooth way Moss did, Lark ended up on her side because she couldn't seem to get enough speed pushing off with her paws.

On the third failed attempt, Lark stopped and thought. Moss insisted that Lark just needed practice and went off to do her own thing._ I don't think I'm doing it wrong, I'm doing everything Moss did, but I can't get enough momentum! I can't push off with my hind legs, I'd have to twist my body..._ with a jolt Lark realized what she had to do. _I have to twist!_ Excited, Lark prepared to try it again. This time, with a quick twist to her upper body, Lark was on her paws, stumbling, but on her paws!

After a couple more tries, Lark was able to tuck, twist, and roll. Soon she was able to complete the move smoothly, so she start working on speed and her landing.

"Well done! I am glad you managed to figure that out on your own. You even knew to rotate your shoulders!" Moss' voice reached Lark's astonished and slightly irritated ears. _What?! All this time she's just been watching me, not doing anything to help?_

"I am sure you're wondering why I just left you to fend for yourself." Moss landed lightly in front of Lark. "Every cat has their own technique and way of fighting. My job is to guide you and hone your fighting skills. And, of course, to teach you different battle moves for different situations. You did well with that move, so let's practice jumping high, far, and forcefully."

For the rest of the day Moss worked Lark, and at the end, when temperatures dropped and the sky darkened, she was exhausted, but happy. From this moment on, she would be able to contribute to her tribe, perhaps not by bringing back prey, but by defending the tribe.

**AN: Please leave a review telling me what you thought! Does it need to be longer? Edited? How does it compare to Storm Rising?**


	3. Fever

**Chapter 2: Fever**

Lark lay in her nest, licking her raw paws and feeling irritated. Why did this happen to her? Why were her paws so soft and her nose so delicate? Pine never had this problem, where his paws got rubbed raw after one day of training, or have one gust of wind dry out his nose! Maybe it was because Stormfur came from the clans, that Lark was weaker than the rest of the tribe, but he adapted so well, unlike his daughter. Lark sighed, she had never really felt at home in the mountains, not that she could leave. Her family and friends were here, how could she even think of leaving them?

The tabby she-cat sighed again but stood up this time. She decided to visit Stoneteller and ask for some herbs to soothe the burning of her pads. On her way out, she ran into Moss, literally. Lark scrambled to her feet, apologizing to the annoyed cave-guard.

"There you are! Come on, we're going on a patrol with Scree, Pebble and Rain," without waiting for an answer, Moss whisked away to join the others, who were already by the waterfall. The cool rock, worn smooth by countless paws, soothed Lark's aching pads, but she knew once out on the mountain they would start hurting again. What would happen if she couldn't walk, and had to stop for a problem her tribemates never had to deal with? But she couldn't tell them; it would lose her the small respect she had earned of Moss, and gaining that had required so much work. Losing Moss' respect meant wasting the long daylight periods working to become strong and agile. No. She would go, and hope that it would toughen her pads.

At least her fur was thick, Lark was thankful of her resilient pelt, a useful advantage when it came to the cutting wind. The roaring waterfall caught the patrol as they slipped through the cave entrance in a spray of water. The wind may bother her nose and freeze her ears, but Lark liked the water, despite it being ice-bearing. Often Lark would stand by the side of a small stream, wondering what it would be like to swim through the tumbling water, but the glacier fed rivers were so cold it was dangerous.

The patrol was silent, save for the occasional command, as they made their way across the rocky terrain. By then, the pain in Lark's paws had grown to an unbearable amount. Desperately, she scanned the ground for the herbs that would soothe her raw pads, but her search proved to be in vain.

"Lark? Are you okay?" Rain asked gently from behind her.

"_Yes,_" Lark snapped, then added, "yes, I am, just a little sore." Moss' green eyes narrowed and Lark's heart sped up, but no one said anything more. The tribe only sent border patrols once every half moon, and it was the cave-guards' job to watch and enforce them. Lark shuddered at the thought of doing them more often. The tribe's territory covered too much land to walk in a day, so the cave-guards split it into sections to patrol on separate days. Lark went over all this information and more to distract her from her paws. Unfortunately, she needed to pay attention where she was putting them, which she remembered once she stumbled into Moss.

"Lark! Watch where you're putting your paws. You're as clumsy as a new-born kit!" Moss rebuked. Ashamed and horrified, Lark muttered an apology.

"She's just been made a to-be Moss. Have some patience," Scree sighed. Lark frowned, not liking what he was implementing, but also gratitude for defending her. The patrol was silent once more as they continued their journey, for which Lark was grateful. It was easier to separate herself from the pain that way. She walked on dumbly, feeling as if she was watching through someone else's eyes, but definitely not Lark That Sings at Dawn's.

Hardly aware that they were back at the waterfall, Lark jumped when someone meowed, "Lark! I caught my first eagle!" Pine's excited green eyes appeared in her vision, framed by a narrow brown face. Lark purred, automatically responding with an 'impressive'.

"So, how big was it?" Lark didn't feel like talking, so she asked a question she knew would provide a lengthy explanation.

"Well, I didn't catch it myself, but I made the third jump. Snow was on the patrol too. She's kind of pretty, though don't you dare tell her I said that. She made the second jump 'cause she's older, though-" Pine continued talking, Lark nodding occasionally but not really paying attention. She was looking for their father, and found him talking to Sheer.

"Lark, are you even listening?" Pine asked. "It's fine if you're not, I guess I'm starting to sound like Pebble. Anyway, I have to go now. Flight is waiting."

Lark nodded. "Training?"

"River safety," her brother responded. Lark waited until Sheer left before limping over to Stormfur.

Stormfur meowed, "Don't you have training?"

Lark shook her head. "Not until tonight. Moss wants me to practice moving at night," she recalled.

"What do you need?"

Hesitantly, she said, "My paws have been hurting a lot." Not until she said it did she realize how pathetic that sounded. "I mean, a _lot_. They're scraped raw," Lark turned over her paws so her pads faced the ceiling of the cave.

Stormfur grimaced. "Stoneteller needs to look at them. I think they're infected." Lark followed him into the tunnel leading to the Cave of Pointed Stones. Cone-shaped stones littered the cave, with small puddles of water resting in shallow dips. They seemed to be reaching for the sky, while other stones, pointing downward, came to meet them.

Out of the shadows of the dimly lit cave, Lark could make out the dark shape of a cat. His amber eyes alighted on her, scrutinizing her even in the scarce light. A large, shining pool of clear water lay at his feet, clearer and brighter that of the other puddles.

"Stoneteller," Stormfur greeted. "Lark needs to see you."

"What did you do to yourself this time?" Stoneteller padded over, sniffing Lark for signs of infection.

Turning her paws so they faced upward, she said, "It's my paws. I scraped them pretty badly."

"Yes you did. And didn't come to me immediately, I see. How you managed to train with these paws, is beyond me. They're seriously infected, Lark. You should have come to me when they first started hurting," Stoneteller padded deeper into the cave, gesturing for her to follow him. "Stormfur, you can go. Lark will need to take the rest of the day off though. Tell whoever is training her." As she limped on, Lark's nose was gradually becoming overwhelmed by the assortment of different smells. Stoneteller stopped when he reached a wall, the source of the scents, and a place Lark knew very well; a result of her many misadventures as a kit. She sat down on the familiar spread of feathers, designated for any sick or injured cat brought in.

When she tried to stand again, a wave of nausea forced her sit down again.

"Fever. Eat these while I tend to your paws," Stoneteller pushed a small pile of herbs towards her. Lark swallowed them with little difficulty before lying on her side. She began to feel drowsy, barely registering the departure of Stoneteller and the arrival of Stormfur and Brook.

As she fell asleep, Lark could hear the murmuring voice of Stormfur, recalling all her favorite stories about the Clans, particularly Riverclan. She loved to hear about the fish, and how he and Feathertail would wrestle in the water, and swim in the river. These were the stories she dreamed about before finding herself in a very different, yet familiar, place.


	4. Dreams

**Chapter 3: Dream**

_Lark found herself in the mountains, much to her disappointment. But something was different. It was unusually warm and a light breeze ruffled her fur, not in the harsh way it did at home, but gently. The scent of mouse was fresh, accompanied by many other unfamiliar smells. And the terrain was different and oddly smooth. Lark pricked her ears, catching the sound of running water. Over the smooth rocks she bounded until she reached the source of the sound: a small creek, clear and fast moving._

_Tentatively, Latk stretched out a paw and let the cool water run over it. The water wasn't the ice cold water that ran in the mountains she lived in, but was pleasantly cool. Before she could try wading in, something pulled her back to where she had first arrived._

_"Lark That Sings At Dawn, welcome to the Tribe of Endless Hunting," came a gentle mew from behind her. Lark spun around, and came face to face with a beautiful silver she-cat._

_"Am I dead?" Lark asked, alarmed._

_The silver cat purred, "No, my name is Feathertail, your father's sister. I've come to give you advice."_

_"Why?"_

_"You're my brother's kit, it's my obligation," Feathertail wrapped her thick tail over her paws. "Your pads will harden in time, and your nose with toughen. But there is another group of cats, one that you may be better suited for."_

_Indignantly, Lark protested, "Are you saying I am not a proper tribe cat?"_

_"No, only that you have a choice, and it's yours to make," Feathertail began to fade._

_"But I am only a to-be! How am I supposed to do anything?" Lark exclaimed._

_Feathertail's form became clear again, much to Lark's relief. She shrugged her silver shoulders. "So much for the dramatic exit. I really should talk to Yellowfang about that," she mewed to herself. "Anyway, finish your training, wait a moon, it's your choice." The silver warrior touched her nose to Lark's head. "And remember, I'll stand with you, with whichever decision you make. Although," she added as an afterthought, "I would like to see Silverstream again."_

_And the dream began fading in earnest, leaving Lark to wonder who in all the mountains Yellowfang was._

~**The Distance Between**~

_ Feathertail was right,_ Lark reflected as Snow's rough tongue rasped over her pelt. _My paws have hardened, and my nose does not dry out as often. But.._ there was something she couldn't explain, an empty space that needed to be filled.

It had been two moons since Feathertail visited her, and a little under that since Stormfur and Brook left to visit the clans. Lark begged to go with them, but they refused, saying she needed to finish her training.

"Stormfur! Brook!" the sudden outburst made Lark jump. She looked up to see Pine greeting their parents, who were standing at the waterfall entrance, forms blurred by the lengthening shadows. Purring, she left Snow to pad over to where Stormfur and Brook stood, a crowd already forming around them.

"Lark!" Stormfur touched his nose to the top of her brown head. A purr rumbled in his throat. Lark moved on to her mother, who seemed a lot smaller than she remembered.

"Lark, you have grown," Brook meowed fondly before nuzzeling her daughter. Feathertail's words echoed in her mind, and she wanted to tell them everything, but refrained from doing so. She waited until Stormfur was alone before approaching him. Even as a kit, Lark preferred his company to Brook's or Pine's. He understood her, and was supporting in the ways Brook wasn't. So it was natural that her instincts led her to telling him first.

"Stormfur?" she asked when they were in a secluded corner so as not to be overheard.

"Yes?

"The night I had a fever, just a quarter moon before you left, I had a strange dream," she started. Stormfur didn't tell her that the fever may have given her unusual dreams, or that it was normal for dreams to be weird, like Brook would have, but sat down and gave Lark his full attention. "A cat was there, she was silver. She said her name was Feathertail."

Stormfur's neutral look changed to curiosity at the name of his sister. "What did she tell you?"

"That I could leave, that I could live in the Clans if I wanted to. That Riverclan could be my home if I chose. And that I may be better suited for life there," Lark finished, feeling nervous about what her father would say.

The gray tom nodded, "If that is what you want, then go. We would miss you of course, but if you want to go, we have no right holding you back."

"But I am not sure whether I even_ want_ to go!" Lark exclaimed. "I need to think, without the pressure of training. What should I do?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, Lark. This is something you need to figure out. You could head down the mountains as if to visit the Clans, but spend some time as a loner. But I suggest you don't wait until you have been made a cave-guard.

"I know, I was not planning to," Lark said.

"Go to your nest, and get some sleep. You don't have to decide anything right now," Stormfur meowed gently, nosing his daughter away.

Too lost in her thoughts to pay attention to anything beside her paws, Lark didn't see Pine until he was right in front of her. "What are you doing? How could you think of leaving the tribe, your_ family_?" he demanded. Lark opened her mouth to defend herself, but was cut off. "You are going to leave Moss, who has been training you to fight, and Gray, our teacher of the tribe's history? And me, I am your brother!"

Anger at Pine, calling himself her brother as if it gave him Healer status, rose up in her throat. "And your happiness is more important than mine?" she hissed. Their eyes met, each unwilling to back down. It wasn't until Snow intervened did they look away.

"_Pine_," the pretty white and gray she-cat said sternly. Pine's eyes softened, and when he spoke, it was obvious he was flustered.

"Uh, um, yes?" Pine said awkwardly. Lark rolled her eyes before escaping to the to-bes' den.

_ Stupid tom,_ she thought, clawing a patch of dirt. She hadn't even decided if she would go, let alone whether she would stay with the Clans. _No,_ a voice in her head argued._ You have decided, and nobody is going to change that._ And Lark knew it spoke the truth; she was leaving the tribe, and would head for Riverclan. Lark wanted to see more than the dreary mountains she lived in, and if she had that choice, she was going to take it.

* * *

** AN: Okay, I realized the timelines are slightly screwed up. But I don't think I can do anything about it. Stormfur and Brook just got back from visiting Thunderclan, after the battle with the Dark Forest. Lark is about eight moons old, which I know is way off, but that's how it's going to be.**


	5. Time of Breaking Ice

**Chapter 4: Time Of Breaking Ice**

When Lark woke the next morning, her anger at Pine had subsided only slightly. She couldn't believe how selfish he was being, and resented him for it. The scraping of paws caused her to look up from her nest, and see Pine staring at her.

"What do you want?" she snapped, regretting it as soon as it left her mouth. Offending Pine further was the last thing she needed. "Who have you told?" Lark asked more gently.

Pine scowled, "I am not a traitor! I respect my family's wishes, and would never betray any member of it in that way." Lark eyed him skeptically, surprised at his dramatic choice of words. She never thought that telling the others would count as betrayal, but apparently Pine did. "Who are _you_ going to tell?" he asked.

"No one. Not yet," Lark replied, though for what she was waiting for, she did not know. Pine nodded and left. She sighed, watching her brother's disappearing form. Looking around the rest of the den, she winced, realizing that any of her denmates could have heard the conversation. But on closer inspection, Lark saw that they were fast asleep, all of them except Snow.

"Is it true?" the white to-be asked, lifting her head. Snow was a light sleeper, so it didn't surprise Lark that their fighting woke her up. Snow continued, "Where are you going?"

Lark's insides seemed to freeze and shrivel up. She looked at her friend, at loss at what to say. "I…erm…well," Lark began nervously.

"Is it that bad?" Snow asked, sounding concerned. Lark shook her head.

"No, not really. Can we talk about this somewhere else?" she glanced at the waterfall. Snow nodded.

The Time of Breaking Ice was upon them, so it was still cold, especially before dawn. But their fur was thick, and protected the two she-cats from the biting air.

"So, what is it?" Snow asked once they were situated above the waterfall. To-bes were technically not allowed there, but Lark didn't care, and Snow couldn't care less. It was beautiful there, and Lark loved it.

The cold morning air cleared Lark's head, allowing her to speak. She explained that she wanted to see more, and how she didn't feel as if she belonged in the mountains. Lark told Snow about Pine's reaction to learning what she was going to do, leaving out Feathertail and the dream.

The first words out of Snow's mouth were not the ones Lark expected. She thought Snow would demand _why_ she was going, and _where_.

"Okay, but visit us once in a while, won't you?" Snow said.

Quickly, Lark recovered from her surprise and answered, "Of course."

"Where will you go?"

Lark shrugged. "I am not sure. Eventually, I want to live in the Clans, but before that…" she trailed off, lost in the possibilities.

Snow shook her head. "I do not understand you, but I understand Pine even less. Even though you are my friend, and I will miss you terribly, I think you should go, if that's what you want."

Warmth flooded her body, expelling all remnants of cold. Snow had been Lark's friend for her entire life, and her opinion mattered more than almost anyone else's. "Thank you. That makes leaving easier, knowing you are fine with it."

"It does not matter what others think, you know," Snow scolded teasingly.

"I know, but you were always better at that than me," Lark nudged Snow with her shoulder. "Oh…look!" the first golden rays had added itself to the sky of pink and purple. The ice next to them glowed rosy pink, while the snow patches reflected a duller image and the bare rock deepened in color.

Beside her, Snow shifted before mewing, "Lark?"

"Yes?"

"I _think_ someone is looking for you," Snow jabbed her tail at the rocks below them. Peering over the edge, Lark saw a very angry Moss glaring back.

"_What_ made you think going up there was a good idea, especially during the Time of Breaking Ice?" Moss snapped. "And Snow, I _will_ be speaking to Sheer about this!"

Snow rolled her eyes the instant Moss' back was turned, making Lark grin and earning a glare from Moss.

The white and gray to-be leaned in, "How does she do that? The thing where she knows exactly what we are doing, even behind her back?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Lark whispered back.

"Well, you _do_ spend a lot of time with her—oh hawk droppings! I _think_ I might be in trouble," Snow nodded to where Moss was talking to a drowsy Sheer.

Lark winced, "Sorry." But Snow waved off her apology.

"No need. Besides, it was actually a little fun! Will you be here for the Time of No Snow? Gray says it is going to be a cold one, but maybe it will be better in the valley," Snow continued talking over her shoulder even as she was beckoned by Sheer.

As the cave grew brighter with sunlight, more cats woke. Not long after Moss brought Lark and Snow back, the cave was bustling with cats continuing with their lives. The prey-hunters set off to hunt with a couple cave-guards flanking them, mentors woke their to-bes, and Moss glowered at Lark. All was normal with the Tribe of Rushing Water.

Moss was silent as she led Lark to their usual training spot, but once there, Lark got the entire lecture on how to-bes weren't allowed above the waterfall until their warrior ceremony because it was tall, slippery, and in one word, dangerous. But in Lark's opinion, this was the appeal of it. The danger, the rush, "the triumph of defying the rules," as Snow put it, was the allure that made "young cats do the daft and foolish things they do," according to Moss.

"Now, what did I say?" Moss asked, a glint in her eye. Lark gulped, saying nothing. "That is what I thought. I was _saying_ that if you work hard, you may be made a cave-guard a moon early, despite your complete disregard of the rules. Now, show me your leap and grasp."

Lark nodded, not mentioning that it was rarely her that led those rule-breaking missions or came up with those schemes that always got Snow and her in trouble. Lark said nothing because she knew it was an argument she would never win.

Since their last session, Lark had all but perfected the move, and was able to perform it with near ease. Moss gave her a nod of approval, an action so rare that Lark couldn't help but feel proud of that small accomplishment. But then she remembered that she was going to leave, and never become a cave-guard. She wondered how Moss would feel. Would she be angry? Probably not. Sad? Not really. Disappointed? Yes, that seemed about right. Moss would go silent, maybe shake her head, and leave Lark with the feel of failure.

Lark shook her head to clear it. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, and concentrated on Moss' explanation of the next lesson: incorporating basic moves into cat to cat combat.

"I want you to fight Flow. He's older than you, but training with Snow does you no good," Moss looked at her to-be disapprovingly. "He and Rock are meeting us at sun-high so get moving! Run to that boulder and back!"

Groaning, Lark lifted herself to her paws and began jogging. After a shout from Moss, she quickened her pace and entered a full out run, nimbly jumping to avoid sharp rocks and cracks where she could twist a paw.

When she got back, Moss had her drilling simple, but by no means easy, moves. Lark jumped, twisted, and clawed, moving on to the next one whenever her mentor saw fit. The rocks and pebbles that had cluttered the clearing during Lark's first moon of training had been pushed to the side or worn into the ground, making that area a safer place to train without so many opportunities to twist a paw. But it also widened the range of places to hold a mock fight because Moss thought that their clearing was too easy to move on.

Despite her dislike of running just to run, Lark recognized it's use in warming her up and in building stamina as she finished, breathing fast, but not as fast as she did a moon ago.

"Come on. It is nearly sun-high," Moss said, not waiting for an answer. Lark hurried to catch up, since Moss didn't believe in coddling to-bes.

The sky was clear, and for the first time in many moons, the sun shone brightly, warming the mountains below. Rock and Flow were waiting for them, basking in the sunlight, but rose quickly once they saw Moss and Lark.

"Ready?" Rock asked Moss. The light brown she-cat nodded, and turned to Lark, indicating where she would stand. Flow crouched opposite Lark, making her realize how poorly matched they were. Flow was large and muscular, nearing his twelfth moon, while Lark was smaller and a mere eight moons old. "Start!"

Flow rushed forward, swiping a paw to knock Lark off balance, which she narrowly avoided. He followed it up with a cuff to the head, meant to focus her attention there, while he pinned her down. Fortunately, Moss had used that same maneuver and Lark was able to anticipate it, but was too slow in ducking. Flow's paw caught the end of her ear and forced her to jump away, but not before swiping her paw over his muzzle. Quicker than Lark thought was possible, Flow used her momentum moving backwards to knock her over and pin her to the ground.

Rock stepped in between them. "Flow wins. However, you fought excellently for your age, Lark. Moss taught you well," he glanced at Moss, who nodded proudly. Whether it was from pride of Lark, or from Rock's compliment, Lark couldn't tell, though she suspected the later. Flow shared an amused glance at Lark, whiskers twitching.

It was no secret that Rock and Moss liked each other, though they were too old for kits. In the back of her mind, Lark wondered whether they'd ever become mates, and whether she'd ever know.

After being pinned three more times by Flow, Moss and Rock called it a day. Lark was tired, but felt accomplished. She had gotten much better, and was even praised by Moss, who seemed to get even stricter when Rock was around.

**~The Distance Between~**

"How did training with an angry Moss turn out?" Snow asked Lark as they were getting ready to sleep.

Feather looked up, a curious look on her face. "What did you do?" she asked, padding over.

"We climbed the waterfall," Snow said sheepishly. Feather gave a _mrroww_ of laughter.

"She did not really make me do anything extra," Lark recounted. "Not that there would be anything extra for me to do."

Lark sat down in her nest, her full belly making her feel tired and heavy. There had been enough prey that night to fill every cat, a rare occurrence. Snow yawned and Feather went back to her nest. Then something occurred to her. "Feather, can you teach me hunting basics?"

"Sure. The cracking of the ice will be any day now. We have the day off training to celebrate. Why do you want to learn?" Feather murmured sleepily.

"Just curious," Lark said between yawns.


	6. Tomorrow At Dawn

**AN: 14 reviews! 14! *does happy dance* Sorry it's a little short. That's probably the reason I updated a lot quicker than before. Remember to tell me what you think of it!**

**Chapter 5: Tomorrow At Dawn**

Lark tried to slow her pounding heart as she paced outside Stoneteller's den. That morning she had made up her mind. She was going to tell Stoneteller that she was going to leave. After putting it off for an entire quarter moon, Lark knew she had to do it today, or else she would never do it.

_Why is this so hard?_ she wanted to scream. _Is __this not what you wanted?_. Thinking about it scared her, thrilled her at first, but as it slowly became a tangible possibility, Lark began to doubt herself. If Snow hadn't pressured her to do it, she didn't think she would ever had summoned the courage to even stand outside Stoneteller's den. Now all she had to do was walk in...

"Lark, do you need anything?" Stoneteller's voice snapped her back to reality. The brown tabby she-cat looked up at him, then over to Snow, who nodded encouragingly. _Or sarcastically. Both expressions look the same on Snow's face,_ Lark thought dryly.

Taking a deep breath, Lark nodded, "Yes, actually."

"Then come inside," Stoneteller said, swinging his body so it faced the dark entrance before flicking his tail for her to follow. "So, what is it?" he asked once they were inside. With the darkness shadowing her face, Lark felt safer, comforted by the fact her emotions were hidden.

"I want to leave!" Lark blurted out. Stoneteller blinked, and nodded for her to continue. "I never belonged here," she explained, her voice softer. "Feathertail came to me, in a dream. The day I came to you with infected paws. She said I could leave, and live in the Clans, Riverclan specifically. And, I want to. I want to swim without worrying about freezing to death, and fish as well as fight! I think Riverclan would be a better home for me- I plan on leaving tomorrow."

Stoneteller looked at her curiously. "We are so different in our lives. You, are wanting adventure and the freedom to roam free, while I am hardly allowed outside the cave. You have my approval, if that is what you came to me for," he padded over to one of the small puddles of water. "Would you like to tell the tribe yourself, or would you prefer for me to tell them?"

"Can you please tell them?" Lark asked meekly, hating her timidness more by the heart-beat. Stoneteller nodded absentmindedly.

Lark dipped her head awkwardly, and hurried out, leaving Stoneteller to his pools of black water.

"So, how did it go?" Snow pounced on her as she entered the to-be's den. Aside from Snow, it was empty, since Flow and Feather had graduated and Pine spent most of his time avoiding Lark.

Shrugging, she said, "Fine. Stoneteller is going to announce it sometime soon. But what am I going to eat? I never learned how to hunt! Feather gave me a couple lessons, but I never really got the hang of it."

"Do you know how long it's going to take to get there?"

Lark shook her head, "Not too long, only a couple sunrises I think."

"That is much too long to go without food," Snow said seriously. "For Bark at least. I swear! He could eat a Sharptooth if he had the chance!"

Purring, Lark added, "Good thing there aren't any available Sharptooths to eat. He would get lazy as an elder during the Time of No Snow!"

Snow laughed, playfully falling on Lark. They laid there for a while, side by side, enjoying each other's company. "I am going to miss you," Snow mewed at last. "When will you leave?"

Subdued, Lark replied, "At dawn. Do you want to share prey, once more before I go?" Snow nodded, and followed Lark to where the rest of the tribe were eating. They were half-way through a vole before Stoneteller came out of his den. He padded to the middle of the cave, and cleared his throat to get the tribe's attention.

"Tomorrow, at dawn, Lark That Sings At Dawn will be leaving us," at this, everyone's attention was drawn to Lark, making her grow hot with embarrassment. "Where, she is going, is not my information to reveal, but she has my approval, as well as the Tribe of Endless Hunting's."

The soft whispers and murmurs grew louder, while Lark made herself smaller. She saw Stormfur and Brook making their way over to where she sat, taking a seat on either side of her.

"But during the time leading up to when she departs, please refrain from asking her questions," Stoneteller added. "Meeting dismissed."

Regardless of Stoneteller's order, Lark was subject to a torrent of questions.

"Where are you going?" most wanted to know.

"Is this related to the hunting lessons you requested?" Feather asked.

"You will never become a cave-guard," Gray warned.

And Bark was worried about what she was going to eat, which, despite her distress, almost made her purr.

But Pine never said a word. Lark saw him slip outside, in spite of the dropping temperatures and black sky, and wondered what he was doing. He wasn't there when she entered the den, but as she began to fall asleep, she heard his perfectly even pawsteps and smelled his familiar scent.

**~The Distance Between~**

_Lark realized she was dreaming the moment she saw Feathertail, who had brought her to the same place as last time. The silver she-cat was purring. _

_"You've decided to leave," she said warmly, touching her nose to Lark's forehead._

_Lark purred softly, "It is good to see you."_

_Feathertail smiled tightly. "It's good to speak to you to, but that's not why I came. I've come to warn you."_

_Alarmed, Lark nodded for her to continue._

_"You won't make it out of the mountains for at least another half-moon. I can't tell you exactly why, I'm taking a risk by telling you anything. It will rain, and rain, and rain. Water will rise, and wipe out many," Feathertail said. _

_"Then I should wait?" Lark asked._

_But Feathertail shook her head. "You don't have to. There are many places where you can shelter, and enough time for you to get fairly far," she paused. "But that's all the time we have, or else I'll be missed."_

_Lark opened her mouth to protest, but the dream was already fading, plunging her into a dreamless sleep._


	7. Storm

**Chapter 6: Storm**

When Lark opened her eyes, it seemed that not a single other cat was awake. It was quiet and still, the only noise being the gentle breathing of her tribe-mates. She was careful not to wake any of them up so as to avoid a confrontation, but as she neared the cave-entrance, she heard a familiar, perfectly even gait.

"Pine?" Lark asked, turning around. And there Pine stood, his stance uncertain and hesitant. In his mouth he held two mice, which he set down so as to speak unhindered.

"I caught these. You are going to need them," he said, and suddenly, Lark realized what her brother was doing last night: hunting for her_._ Pine looked at his paws. "It is fine if you do not want to take them. I just wanted to apologize for being such a beetle-brain."

Purring, Lark touched her nose to her brother's brown ear. "Thank you, Pine. No hard feelings then?"

Pine grinned. "Not on my side. You?"

"There never really was," Lark replied truthfully, amazed at the drastic change in her brother's demeanor, all because of her. Of course, she was the reason he was so tentative in the beginning, but Lark chose to ignore that small fact. "I better get going. I already said good-bye to Stormfur and Brook, but you left. So, bye," Lark picked up the two mice Pine brought, and with one last glance at the cave that had been her home for her entire life, and the brother she just made up with, Lark began her journey.

She hadn't been traveling long when the first rays of dawn shot across the sky, turning the clouds red and pink. For the first time, Lark realized how thick and heavy they looked. _Better get moving then, _she thought grimly, not wanting to get caught in the rain. _Rain,_ Lark remembered. _Did Feathertail not say something about rain? "It will rain, and rain, and rain. Water will rise, and wipe out many,"_ the words came rushing back, as well as her alarm.

Lark quickened her pace, then realized that tiring herself out would do nothing. She decided to just keep going at a steady trot, and when it started to drizzle, she would find shelter.

It was a cold day. The sky was grey and unchanging even though Lark knew it must be around sun-high. She stopped to rest at the top of a ridge, setting down her two mice to rest her aching jaw. Fur fluffed out, she watched as a leaf was ripped from it's bush and was carried away by the wind.

After it had faded from sight, Lark bent down to pick the mice back up, stretching her jaw one more time, before clamping them around their tails. As she raised her head, a droplet landed on her nose, startling her. Lark dropped the mice, throwing her head back to stare at the clouds overhead, which seemed to have grown even denser and darker with rain.

In a flash, Lark picked up the mice, which she had come to call Fat and Bark. She raced towards the only shelter in sight: an impossibly steep cliff. It started raining before she got a fourth of the way, making the stones slick and the dirt muddy.

Never had Lark been more grateful for Moss' crazy training routines. There were an endless number of agility exercises she had made Lark go through, all of which Lark called into use as she ran over the slippery ground with the rain beating at her back.

She didn't see or hear the cat until she was on top of him.

"Hey! Watch it!" he yelled over the thundering pounding of the rain.

Lark could barely make out his shape, despite their close proximity, let alone his fur color. "Sorry!" she yelled back. "Do you have a place to shelter?"

The tom shook his head to show he couldn't hear, but gestured for her to follow him. Realizing she had little choice, Lark staggered beside him until they came to a concealed cave entrance. He led her inside a short tunnel, which opened up into a small room. Lying in the middle of the cave was a heavily pregnant brown and white she-cat, and the tom turned out to be a large, dark brown tabby.

"Cedar, there you are! I was getting worried," the she-cat purred, heaving herself to her paws. The first thing Lark noticed about her voice was that there was a slight accent to it, and not at all like Stormfur's.

Cedar stopped her. "Rest, the kits will come any day now. I want you to save your energy for them," he purred, the love for his mate so evident even Lark could see it.

"Who is this?" the she-cat asked, nodding at Lark.

Shyly, Lark looked at her brown tabby paws and said, "My name is Lark. I'm a former tribe cat."

Ignoring her mate's protests, the she-cat sat up. "You poor thing! Did they drive you out? Cedar dear, make her a nest, she can stay as long as she wants," she said, looking over Lark as if checking for injuries. "My name is Hazel, you are soaking! Come on, let's get you warm."

Hazel led Lark to her nest, with Cedar standing awkwardly to the side. "Thank you, but I'm fine, really. Your mate is right, you should rest," Lark said to Hazel, who reminded her so much of Brook.

"Yes, Lark is right. Save your strength for kitting," Cedar used that moment to jump in. "Don't make me hold you down," he threatened playfully.

Watching them, Lark was reminded of her parents, and though she hadn't been gone long, homesickness began to creep up on her heart. Then she remembered, "The mice!"

Hazel and Cedar looked up. "What is it?" Hazel asked.

Lark internally groaned. "I was carrying two mice when the storm hit," she explained. "I must have dropped them when we were running."

"That's okay. Food isn't a problem," Hazel assured her. Lark shook her head, not feeling like explaining about Pine.

"But you are already doing so much," she protested, feeling guilty. The young couple would have enough trouble when their kits came. They didn't need Lark taking their food.

Cedar laughed, "It's no trouble. Really. If you want to help, you can convince Hazel to stay inside."

Feeling a purr rise in her chest, Lark smiled. "Thank you. Do you have any idea when this storm is going to stop?" she asked.

Hazel cocked her head. "That's right. You must have been born last leaf-frost -"

"Leaf-frost?" Lark interrupted. She was mildly surprised at the many distinctions between these cats and the tribe. Not only did Cedar and Hazel live alone, without any other cat to help them, but they talked differently too.

"The time when it starts getting cold, and frost forms on the leaves," Cedar explained, giving Lark an odd look.

"They must call it something different in your tribe," Hazel gave a nod of understanding. "Anyway, back to the storm. It probably won't last long, don't worry. You will be on your way next sun-rise," the brown and white she-cat assured Lark. "Why don't you go to sleep, get a good night's rest. There will be a bird for you to eat in the morning."

But Lark remembered Feathertail's warning, and she knew, despite Hazel and Cedar's seasons of experience, the storm wouldn't be over by tomorrow. Perhaps not until the next day, or the next, or the next.

Lark didn't know how long she would have to intrude on Hazel and Cedar's hospitality, but mentally, she prepared herself; for the agonizing days in which Lark would have nothing to do but talk to Hazel and Cedar, and for the loneliness threatening to invade her mind.


	8. Gone Fishing

**AN: Okay, ignore what I said in previous chapters. Lark is 12 moons now. **

**Chapter 7: Gone Fishing**

It was still raining when Lark regained consciousness. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fall back asleep, but gave up after a couple of heartbeats. The den had stayed warm and dry, to Lark's relief as she rose from her nest and stretched her sore body. Quietly, so as not to wake Hazel and Cedar, Lark padded down the slope of the entrance tunnel. She wanted to know if her hypothesis was correct, that this was the rain Feathertail spoke of.

The pounding rain grew louder and louder as she neared the entrance, reminding Lark of the waterfall back home. She was shocked to see it looked like it too. A sheet of water poured off the top lip of the tunnel mouth, so all Lark could see was gray. She stood, dumbfounded, watching the thickly falling rain until her freezing paws forced her to go back.

Cedar was awake by that time, and nodded at her. "Good morning," he said, his voice low. "Keep the noise down, Hazel is still sleeping." He indicated his mate with his tail. "Did you have a look outside?"

Lark's mind flashed back to the wall of water. "Er… sort of. It, well, you should look for yourself," she replied. The dark brown tabby gave her a confused look, but trotted down the tunnel anyway. When he came back, he shook his head disbelief.

"I can't see a thing," Cedar said, swishing his tail nervously. "What if the cave floods?" Worried, he began pacing back and forth with anxious glances at Hazel, who was starting to stir.

With an enormous yawn, Hazel sat up, swollen belly swinging. "I'll be glad when I have my kits. It's nearly impossible to sleep!" the brown and white queen meowed cheerily.

Lark eyed her skeptically, not quite believing her. "You seem pretty well rested…" Lark let her thought trail off questionably.

Cedar snorted, "You should see her sleep without a belly full of kits. I swear, I'll spend moons waiting for her to wake up!"

"I do not – ooh, a vole! Is that for me?" Hazel said, distracted by a stray piece of prey. Without waiting for a response, she tore into it, wolfing it down as if she hadn't eaten for a moon. Realizing her mistake, she froze in mid-chew. Hazel looked up sheepishly, bits of vole clinging to her muzzle.

Lark snickered.

"Erm… was that not for me?" Hazel meowed guiltily.

Cedar's whiskers were twitching, and a purr of amusement built up in Lark's chest.

"I'm sorry! I just get really hungry sometimes," Hazel flattened her ears in embarrassment. "Stop – stop laughing!"

"I'm not laughing!" Cedar said indignantly, faking hurt. Lark purred quietly, watching the two argue. But it was clear that they weren't really mad; the quarreling was gentle and affectionate. She decided to see if the rain had let up any, and leave Hazel and Cedar to themselves.

The rain had let up slightly. Faintly, Lark could see the blurry outlines of the bigger rock structures. She debated whether or not venturing out of the den and finding her way back again was possible in the current weather, but decided against it. Lark remembered how suddenly the rain had come, and was afraid that she would get lost and freeze to death. So she settled on watching the steady fall of the rain, and listening to its near-familiar sound.

Lark lost track of how long she lay there on the cold, hard, stone. Sunrise and sun-high looked no different. The sky was seamless grey, marred by only the countless water droplets plummeting to the ground. She felt her eyelids begin to droop, and, lulled by the steady pattering of the rain, fell asleep.

**~The Distance Between~**

_Lark was dreaming, again. She wasn't in the Tribe of Endless Hunting's territory, like during previous visits; she couldn't even recognize her surroundings as something that would exist in the waking world. The ground and sky seemed to be made of thick, pale grey fog, and mist prevented her from seeing more than ten tail-lengths away._

_"Feathertail?" Lark called, her voice ringing out clearly despite the fog. There was no reply. Nervously, Lark padded through the mist, her pawsteps muffled by the strange ground. Even after walking for a long time, Lark neither saw nor heard any signs of other cats._

_What is going on? Lark asked herself. Is this like one of the dreams I talk to Feathertail in, or am I just making this up? But normal dreams were scattered and random, whilst this one felt so real…_

_Pawsteps, ever so faint, sounded behind Lark. Whipping her head around, the light brown tabby narrowed her eyes, peering through the fog, which seemed to have grown even denser. But no one was there, so Lark continued walking, shuddering at the images her imagination thought up._

_The silence was eerie; all Lark could hear was her pounding heart and shallow breathing. Every once in a while she would hear a whisper, or a rustle and she would jump. But Lark saw no one, and passed it off as her imagination._

_Then came the unmistakable whimper of a kit. Lark's ears shot up, and heard it again. Pin-pointing the direction it came from, she trotted slowly in that way, searching for the source. It wasn't until she almost tripped on it did Lark find the kit. She was shocked to see it wasn't even three moons old._

_"Mu-mommy?" it squeaked pathetically. The kit was thin and scraggly with dirty grey fur, and stunk of illness. Lark could barely tell what gender it was, but was fairly sure it was a she-cat. Sitting back on her haunches, Lark contemplated what to do. She could, of course, leave it, to what fate, Lark had no idea, but dismissed the thought anyway. Helping it wasn't really an option, either, as Lark didn't know how long she had until she woke up._

_So Lark decided to comfort her, at least until she thought of a better plan. But before she could even touch the sickly kit, Lark was bowled over._

_"What?" said Lark, her mind beginning to revert to its sluggish, normal, dream-like state._

_The cat, who had turned out to be Feathertail, hissed, "Wake up! Wake_ up_!"_

**~The Distance Between~**

Lark scrambled to her paws, panting. Slowly, she sat down again, the strange dream still fresh in her mind. She shook her head, as if to clear it, but that was the last thing it did. _What happened?_ Lark wondered. _What was that place? And why did Feathertail tell me to wake up? Wake up. Wake up!_ Lark took a look around her.

"Flood!" she yowled, running up the tunnel. Black water splashed around her paws, making them heavy and water-logged. "Cedar! Hazel!" Lark burst into the small cave.

They were talking quietly, but looked up immediately. "What?" Cedar asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

"The tunnel is flooding! We have to get out now, or the water will trap us!" Lark rushed to where the cave connected to the tunnel.

Cedar stood up, racing past her to see for himself. Not ten heartbeats had passed when he came back. "Lark's right. We need to go, right now. I will go first, then Hazel. Lark, can you help her? I think I know a place alongside the cliff that might be safe," Cedar left no room for questions, instantly taking the lead. Too terrified to protest, Hazel followed, with Lark close behind.

To her horror, the water had crept several whisker lengths higher from when Lark had woken up. "Lark, watch Hazel. Do not let her slip," Cedar ordered calmly. Lark nodded, staring at the lapping waves with growing anxiety.

Cedar entered the water, and beckoned the two she-cats to do the same. Feeling Hazel stiffen, Lark pressed closer to her brown and white flanks. Although she knew it would happen, the ground disappearing beneath her feet still came as a shock. This was not how Lark had imagined the first time she would go swimming.

Lark didn't like praying for any frivolous thing, but she figured that praying in this circumstance would be appropriate. _Feathertail, if watching out for me really is your obligation, please help!_ Lark begged. For a moment, she thought nothing would happen, but then felt her flailing paws slow down and begin to move in synchronization. Beside her, she felt Hazel also calming down as her paws automatically paddled.

To all of their great relief, they didn't have to swim in the vicious water for long before their paws touched rock. Lark saw that Feathertail had helped Cedar, too, as he climbed onto relatively dry land.

Hazel and Lark followed him to the cliff and under a sheltered overhang. How Cedar found it, Lark could only speculate; the rain was fall so thickly that Lark was having difficulty seeing Cedar's tail two mouse lengths away. Above them, the rain thundered and pounded against the rock, but very little made it to where they stood.

"You two can rest," Lark said, eyeing their exhausted expressions. "I will take the first watch."

Cedar nodded, wrapping himself around Hazel protectively. "Wake me when you think it's moon-high and I'll take my shift," he said, his eyes already closing.

After their flight from the water, Lark couldn't even imagine sleeping. Her mind was too busy thinking and processing to shut down immdiately. She thought back to when her paws first left land. Frankly, she was surprised that Feathertail heard her and responded. Lark shuddered at the thought of drowning in those horrid waters; waves splashing in her face, tumbling through the massive swells, gasping for air, only to find that there was none. Firmly, she told herself to stop thinking about it. They were safe, Feathertail was looking after them, and the rain was beginning to dissipate.

When Lark decided it was around moon-high, she gently nudged Cedar from his sleep, and found a relatively comfortable spot to curl up. Her mind had long since slowed down, and Lark discovered that a pregnant she-cat was perfect for sleeping against.


End file.
